Family Pieces Page 9

  “OOO-kaaaay,” Adie chimed, drawing out both syllables. Addison loved listening to her voice. She sounded like she was the lead in a musical, singing every word.

  In the toddler girl’s section, they gave Addison’s gold card a workout.

  “You’ll be the envy of all the girls at preschool. Little Suri Cruise and Violet Affleck will have nothing on you.” But Adelaide no longer seemed interested in her godmother’s banter. Her thumb was deeply planted in her mouth and her eyes began to grow heavy.

  Addison figured she could nap in the car. She wanted to visit her mother who had been released the day before from the hospital. She was now resting at their home in Bedford, roughly fifty miles outside of the city.

  “Uh-oh!” Adie’s eyes got big again. Her thumb popped out of her mouth. “Poopy! Poopy-stinky. Yuck!”

  Addison grimaced. “You didn’t.”

  “Poopy,” Adelaide repeated. The recognizable stench crept into Addison’s nose.

  “You did.” Addison’s shoulders and upper body hunched forward in dismay. “You’re supposed to tell me when you have to go potty, Adie.”

  Addison finished paying for their purchases then fumbled to quickly cram the numerous bags beneath the already over-packed stroller. “Where’s the ladies’ room?” She asked the sales associate.

  “Take the escalator,” she paused noting the stroller, “Actually, take the elevator behind men’s coats down to the first floor, then take a left. Look right and you’ll see it from there.”

  “Thanks.” Addison hurried, trying not to inhale. “Lord, Adie, what did your mother feed you this morning?” Thumb planted firmly back in her mouth, Adie simply stared up at her.

  They arrived at the bathroom and Addison surveyed her options. The stroller wouldn’t fit in a stall. The lounge area was immaculately furnished, but a lady sat there nursing her baby. She didn’t want to change a stinky diaper in front of her. “Ah-ha. The changing table!” Addison said, not realizing she was thinking aloud. She unbuckled Adie and lifted her out of the stroller. Addison locked her elbows, keeping her arms straight out in front of her as if to keep the smell as far away as possible. She laid Adie on the marble slab, hitting the back of her head slightly.

  “Whhaaa!” Adelaide cried.

  “Sorry, honey,” Addison said, rubbing the back of the little girl’s head. Adie fussed and wiggled her body uncomfortably. “It’ll just take a moment, sweetheart. Now where are the wipes?” Adie squirmed restlessly as Addison dug through to the bottom of the stroller. “Voila!” she exclaimed holding up the diaper wipes that were buried behind the mass of shopping bags.

  “All done.” Addison lifted Adie off the rock-hard table and secured her back into the stroller. Adie seemed relieved. She waved both hands, repeating the sign language symbol for all done after Addison.

  “You’re happy about that, huh? Let’s get out of here, shall we?” They rolled past the nursing mom whose look suggested that Addison had no mothering skills whatsoever.

  11

  After class, Karsen returned to her apartment. Now that James wasn’t making his nightly visits, the apartment felt deserted. She felt alone, more alone than ever. The ceiling fan hummed against the silence as it circled on high. She made a cup of tea and turned on the television. Other than a rerun of “Oprah,” nothing interested her. The episode was about a recent book on the law of attraction. Karsen speculated about what she could have possibly done to attract the recent events of her life. In two months, her picket-fence existence had been kicked in, trampled over and all but destroyed.

  She was desperate for something to do – anything that would distract her. Karsen remembered from her psychology class that there were stages to grief. She made her way to the couch, opened her laptop and Googled the word. Several links appeared. She clicked on the one detailing each stage. It showed five. She had sailed past the first – denial. Her mom was gone. James had cheated. There was no denying either. Anger. Yes, she was undoubtedly angry. God, was she angry. Bargaining, depression and acceptance. Acceptance seemed distant, she couldn’t fathom accepting the amount of loss she’d experienced in such a short time.

  She sipped her tea. The hot liquid burned her tongue, leaving a rough, coated feeling. She set the mug back on its coaster and closed her eyes. In the midst of the weekend’s commotion, she’d neglected to call her father. Sunday calls home had become routine. So routine that she realized she should have known the mid-week call meant tragedy the instant her dad had called about her mom. She contemplated calling him now, but with the time difference she assumed he was probably already asleep for the night.

  She refocused her eyes on the computer screen. The television still played in the background and she could overhear the dialogue. “You bring about what you thank about.” Karsen found it hard to feel gratitude. She felt shell-shocked and unsure about the future. She longed to rewind the past two months and erase them altogether. The only feeling she felt in her heart was bitterness.

  Her screensaver flashed on and she circled her finger across the touch pad to clear it. She wanted to keep her mind occupied but had limited ability to focus nor the ambition to tackle any schoolwork. As she continued to surf, a “Create Your Family Tree” link appeared in a box above her open window. Pop-up ads – she hated them. Those annoying boxes continually wasted her time and bogged down her processing speed. Out of habit, she moved her mouse to click the corner X to close the ad. Her hand paused. Family Tree. She thought about it. There were only three immediate family members left. Dad, Brad and herself. Her grandparents had all passed away and her family never developed a close connection to any of their aunts, uncles or cousins.

  Instead of closing the box, she clicked on the hyperlink. Within seconds, she was launched into ancestry.com, a homepage for a genealogy website. There were several links spanning across the top. Create your family tree, name search, blog, about us. She clicked on the name search and typed “Woods” into the open box and 5,190 records appeared. “Wow, I didn’t realize we had such a popular name,” she said aloud. She narrowed the search “Katherine Woods,” reducing the hits to less than 800, but she didn’t have the patience to ruffle through that many records.

  She clicked the blog site and marveled at the number of posts. There were suggestions about how to research ancestors, links to other recommended sites, and stories and interesting family discoveries. One family linked their ancestors back to the Lincoln family. Karsen was intrigued. There were also stories about finding missing family members.

  Karsen returned to the family tree link. Maybe it would be fun to learn more about her extended family. At least it would provide temporary entertainment and the service was free so it fit her budget.

  Karsen called her dad the next afternoon.

  “Hey, Daddy.”

  “Hi, sweetheart. Is it Sunday already?” he teased, knowing she missed the weekend’s call. Her mother would have tried to call her, but he just figured he’d talk with her later.

  “Funny. How are you? I just thought I’d check in since I was a bad daughter and didn’t call you yesterday.”

  “Too busy for your old man. I get it,” he laughed.

  “No, of course not. I had a really bad day. Did Brad tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “That James and I broke up over the weekend.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry, honey. Are you doing okay?”

  “I suppose.” She knew her dad didn’t know how to handle emotional situations, so she held back the details. She also knew he’d fly out with a shotgun if she told him why they broke up.

  “What are you up to?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh, the usual. Work, eat and sleep. I’ve been taking the dog for a walk every night. It’s been good for us both to get out.”

  “That’s good. Say, Dad, did you ever realize that your necklace charm and Mom’s didn’t match up?”

  He paused, contemplating his reply. He didn’t want to draw any m
ore attention to the charms than there already had been. He knew if Brad gave Karsen Katherine’s charm, she’d try to fit them together. He wasn’t surprised the topic had resurfaced again, but rather hoped after their argument Karsen would have let it go already. “Oh, I never paid much attention to those things, sweetheart. It was your mom’s family tradition. I told you before, I just went along with it.”

  “So, you never tried to fit them together? Mom always said all the pieces fit. That was the purpose of them being puzzle pieces,” Karsen pressed. “I can’t believe I never tried to put them together before. I just believed her, I guess.”

  “Hun, your mom loved Grandpa’s idea. You know she was a sentimental junkie. That woman never missed a chick flick. But, I don’t know the logistics of it all. Grandpa made the first three pieces. Maybe the pieces were too hard to match up. All the rest were made by a jeweler.” He didn’t elaborate further. “Well, I should get back to work, I suppose. Good to hear your voice, honey,” he said, anxious to end the conversation.

  “Ok, Dad. Talk to you Sunday.”

  Karsen hung up the phone. Her frustration grew. She didn’t know if she was frustrated not knowing the truth, or with herself for not letting it go.

  “You did what?” Emily’s eyes ballooned open as she looked at the shopping bags sitting on Addison’s floor. She couldn’t even guess the amount of money it took to fill them.

  “I said I bought a few things for Adie.”

  “Mommy, look at me!” Adelaide waddled out in a pair of Addison’s high heels. She giggled at herself as she tottered around the living room.

  “Good job, Peanut.” Emily smiled down at her daughter then turned to address Addison. “Seriously. Barneys? We can’t accept this. You’ll have to return it - all of it. Her clothes are from Target, maybe Carters, but not BARNEYS!”

  “They’re gifts, Em. It’s okay.”

  “It is not okay. Do you realize that kid’s clothes get pooped on, peed on, and puked on? Or if not one of the three P’s, they outgrow them before you get the tags off. You can’t pay that for baby clothes.”

  “Yes I can. I did and I will again.” Addison wouldn’t budge. “Adie loves them. Anyway, if she’s going to model for my next edition, she’s going to need something to wear. I mean other than her ‘Tax Deduction’ t-shirt. It’s cute and all, but not exactly classy.”

  Emily looked perplexed. “You’re joking, right?”

  “About what?”

  “You don’t really plan to use her for a shoot?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, with your permission, of course. She’s adorable. I was thinking about an article on working moms – you know, the complexities of juggling both a high-powered career and a family. Adie would be perfect, and we’ll compensate her appropriately.”

  “Pay Adie?” Emily tried to get her head around the thought of not only her two-year-old daughter earning an income, but an income larger than her own as she was now a stay-at-home mommy. What would Greg think?

  “Yes, I’m sure you can put the money in a trust fund or education account, right? Or, Adie could throw one big shindig for her third birthday party. Ice cream and cake for all the toddlers in Manhattan.”

  “Up! Up!” Adie held both arms toward Addison. Addy leaned over, grabbed her up under her armpits and propped her naturally against her hip.

  “You want to model, don’t you Adie?”

  “No!” Adie replied.

  “She says ‘no’ to everything,” Addison said, shaking her head. The word had to be the most common one among Adie’s age group. No meant “no,” no meant “yes,” and no meant “maybe,” or simply “I don’t know any other word to say.”

  Addison grabbed Adie’s hand as the little girl giggled and tugged on her necklace. “Don’t pull that, sweetie.”

  “Is that new?” Emily asked. The necklace didn’t look typical of something her friend would wear. The simple silver chain and charm looked almost rustic. There was no gold, diamonds or other precious gems adorning the piece.

  “No,” replied Addison, nonchalantly stuffing it back into her blouse.

  “Oh, I just never noticed it before.”

  “So what about the shoot?” Addison asked again.

  “I don’t know. I’ll talk to Greg and let you know. If he’s okay with it, well then, I guess I will be, too.” Emily smiled and lifted Adie out of Addison’s arms and into her own. “Thank you again for today. It was just what I needed.”

  “Ready to go?”

  Hanna jogged up to Karsen. Her hair was looped into a loose ponytail and her pink shoelaces were tied in double knots. “How about the five-mile loop today? I almost ate an entire pan of brownies by myself last night.”

  “Stewing over anything in particular?” Karsen asked.

  “Not really. Well. Maybe? That schmuck you call a brother hasn’t called me.”

  Karsen laughed. “It’s been like one day, Hanna. You crack me up. Since when are you insecure about a guy? Sheesh!”

  “I know. I know.” She covered her face with both hands. “I don’t know what my deal is lately. I’m so used to the guy pursuing me. What’s with your brother?”

  “Hanna, he likes you. He’s probably just in shock that you like him. Give it time.” Karsen placed her hands against the wall and pushed back to stretch her Achilles, first one leg and then the other. She kneeled down and tightened her shoelaces, reset the timer on her watch and was ready to go. Their loop headed up Mill Avenue to University then weaved through campus, ending back where they began.

  Not five minutes into their run, Karsen tentatively broached the topic of her necklace with Hanna again. She was not sure what she was seeking. Perhaps she was hoping for confirmation that she should let it all go, or perhaps reassurance that she should not. “So…I asked my dad about the necklace pieces last night.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. He was unconcerned or at least uninterested. He implied maybe the jeweler that made ours never matched my mom’s in the first place.”

  “And do you buy that?”

  Karsen reflected momentarily as she looked both ways before stepping off the curb to cross the street. “I guess. I mean my parents were happy. It wasn’t like they hid anything from each other.”

  They ran a few more minutes without chatting. “What if he doesn’t know?” Hanna suggested.

  “Know what?”

  “Or, what if he knows something and doesn’t want to tell you?” Hanna took a sip from her water bottle and checked her watch. The conversation slowed them off their usual pace, but since she was feeling on the sluggish side, she didn’t mind.

  “He wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “I didn’t say lie. More like fib or withhold information is what I was implying.”

  Karsen shook her head. “I still don’t think so.” She paused. “Why can’t I just let this go? I feel like I’m torturing myself over something trivial. Brad’s probably right. They probably never fit.”

  “Does it really matter anyway?”

  “Who knows? Maybe I’m just trying to get back at my dad for the fight we had. I still have no idea why he blew up that night.”

  “I wish I was more help.” Hanna racked her brain trying to think of something to help her friend find some rhyme or reason. “You said a jeweler made yours, right?”

  “Yeah. My grandpa made the original three, but he passed away. My mom had ours made at a jewelry shop in town.” She paused. “Why? What are you thinking?”

  “Call around and find the jewelry store,” Hanna said.

  “Why?” The thought hadn’t occurred to Karsen.

  “It’s a long shot, but maybe the store would know if they fit. There have to be some kind of sales records for a custom piece, don’t you think?”

  Karsen pondered the suggestion. Hanna might be right. She contemplated the logistics of tracking down the store. There were several possibilities.

  “So, has James called any more?” Hanna redirected the conversation.
She was hoping the answer was no. She didn’t want to see Karsen hurt any more.

  “Just once. He left another voice mail, late at night as usual. He really needs to give up on the make-up booty call. Fat chance.”

  “Are you sure you’re still doing okay?” Hanna knew Karsen put on a strong front, but she continued to worry about her.

  “Up and down, I guess. The busier I keep, the better. One thing is for certain. You don’t have to worry about me going back down that path. Once a cheater, always a cheater, right?”

  Hanna smiled. “My thought exactly.”

  Rounding the corner, Karsen slowed and began walking a few steps before they reached their usual finishing mark.

  “Slacker!” Hanna jabbed.

  “Whoaa!” Karsen blinked, trying to adjust her eyes. Her hands reached out to balance herself as she staggered. Her sight blurred into a sheet of black, spotted by an array of flashing stars.

  “Are you okay, K?” Hanna instinctively grabbed Karsen’s arm to steady her.

  “Just dizzy. Overdid it, maybe?” She blinked as her vision cleared. “I think I’m okay.”

  “It seemed like our usual pace. Weird. Maybe you just need to eat?”

  “Maybe. My appetite has been a bit out of whack lately…instant diet. I’m even fitting into my skinny jeans.” Karsen tried to run down her food intake over the past several weeks. All the stress she’d been under had taken its toll, and she had all but lost her taste for food. Hardly anything sounded appetizing and what she did eat rarely settled in her stomach.

  “Why don’t we grab a bite at the student center? Maybe getting something into your system will help.”

  Karsen nodded in agreement and they headed toward the food court.

  12

  Russell called Addison persistently from the moment they ended their initial date. She secretly enjoyed his attention, but still didn’t want to let her emotions take control. She’d pursue dating him as long as she commanded the ship.